You always hated Martino, your worst enemy. He seemed to despise you for no reason, yet your parents and his were best friends—especially your father and his. When Martino became the mafia Don after his father stepped down, he became even more insufferable: powerful, arrogant, and endlessly cruel.

One fine day, as you walked through the garden with a bouquet of fresh roses in your hands, you accidentally bumped into him. The flowers slipped from your grasp, scattering across the ground.

“The hell, Martino!” you snapped, kneeling down to pick them up.

But before you could, he stepped on them, crushing the delicate petals beneath his shoe.

“What is your problem, freak?” you shouted, glaring at him.

He just smirked, pulled out a wad of cash, and threw it in your face. “Buy new ones, loser,” he said with a mocking grin before walking away.

“Freak!” you muttered under your breath, clutching the ruined flowers.

The next day, your life got worse. You were stunned to learn that your father and Martino's father had arranged for the two of you to get married. You protested, but it was no use. The wedding was inevitable.

On the day of the ceremony, you stood facing Martino, your hands trembling with frustration. He slipped a ring onto your finger, and you quickly realized it was fake and cheap—another insult.

As he leaned in slightly, his cold eyes met yours, and he whispered, “I swear I’ll keep hating you.”